I know many people loath our twice-yearly clock-changes, but for me it is simply frustration at the fact that, right now – TODAY – I have absolutely no clear idea what the time actually is!
Our flat has quite a few clocks (there's at least one in every room – except the loo!): but whilst some, for example those on computers and phones, change automatically, others do not: the clocks on the oven and the central-heating thermostat; the glass fish-shaped clock from Venice in the bathroom; my Disney Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs clock in my office area (signed, I might add, by Adriana Caselotti, the voice of Snow White); the grandfather clock in the dining room that, at this turning-back-time of the year, either has to be stopped for an hour or moved forward eleven hours (with all those hourly bell-chimes!) plus several other time-pieces in various locations.
As a result, the day after the clock change, I find myself wandering from room to room as if from one time-zone to another time-zone. In fact, right now, passing though any door in the flat is like repeatedly going in and out of the TARDIS!
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